I don't have feelings, I AM feelings.

Month: November 2016

if a person is a continenttheir borders delineated on a map so thatone can traverse a boundary andfind oneself insome strange country, atraveller, the tongue foreignthe food and customs strangeexcited feet drawing the traveller inwardenticing them to exploreto learnto grow

if a person is a continent,my love, you were immenseyour borders manned bysoldiers, their eyes hard,their judgment final

i found my way in on a short term visaand stayed long after it expiredwandering labyrinthine streetsi made a home in the artists corridorit was small, but warm

i strove to make a lifewithin your borders

i tried to love the people,with their hungry eyes and heartsi even joined the protestscursing daily the despot whoset such cruelties on them at so young an agewho placed the watchers on the wallsbrought attack dogs fromfar afield and,
when they were starvedand neglected
released themwithout mercyon the innocent

i visited your museums,empty as they were,the war had cost you so muchi tried, during my stay,to fill them, to make up the differenceinstructing the curatorsfrom my own countryto lend you all they couldbut the halls were vastand even my curatorscould only do so muchwith our limited means

every day i set outfeet carrying me alongstreets without namesno map could help me sortthe nature of the cities